Pieces of Our Lives
by Cal reflector
Summary: The richest love... is that which endures loss, heart ache, and separation to be together someday. An original Honey and Clover story in six parts. ShuujixRika.
1. Chapter 1

Pieces of Our Lives: A Honey and Clover story

By Cal-Reflector

**Author's notes and Disclaimer:** After submitting the story thus far to my former English teacher for critique and editing, I was able to work out a few serious technical mistakes reload the documents. Please enjoy the new and improved "Pieces of Our Lives."

I do not own Honey and Clover. If I did, I would make Shuuji marry Rika and the two of them live happily ever after with their four beautiful children somewhere warm. I would also give Kaoru, Morita's older brother, ten times more page/screen time.

I do, however, own this story, and am determined to salvage a happy ending out of it, and darned if I don't.

**

* * *

**_ The three of us are out by the lake late one winter night. Not having enough money in our pockets to visit a bar, we buy drinks from the convenience store instead. There was a full moon out, its silver silhouette shimmering on the surface of the lake below. It was not long before Harada and Rika became a little drunk, and before I could stop him, he drops himself into the water. He laughs and swims a little without a bother, but as I look on I can not help but tremble inwardly at the thought of just how bone-numbingly cold the waters must be. Harada is smiling at us now, he reaches out his hand and beckons for her to join him in that icy expanse. "Come in, Rika. Shall we go?" My heart begins to pound harder when I see her step closer towards the edge, towards the plunge into that dark pool where Harada awaited. My body freezes, and I can no longer move, but I hear a voice begin to speak, then yell, then scream, "Don't… Rika… you can't! Don't go! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME…" _

"… RIKA!" And then I awake, sitting upright in my bed, covered in sweat and gasping for breath. I awaken once more from the same dream, by the same voice, my own, crying out her name.

How many years has it been since I last had that nightmare?

Footsteps next door, a moment later I hear a soft tapping on my own. "Come in, Hagu."

A little girl dressed in a lavender night dress pokes her head through the door, long blonde tresses slightly mussed, a pillow clutched tightly to her chest. "Are you alright, Shuu-chan? I heard shouting…"

"Ah, I'm okay. Sorry for waking you… just a bad dream." I wipe the sweat from my brows and climb out of bed. "Now, go on back to sleep. I'll be all right."

She gazes at me intently, a look of concern on her face. "Okay… goodnight, Shuu-chan."

"Goodnight, Hagu." The door clicks shut. I make my way to the bathroom and fill a glass from the tap, draining it in rapid gulps. The water scratches my throat, which has become parched. I slap cold water onto my face and lean over with my arms against the sink, waiting for my racing heart to come down to its normal pace. Looking up into the mirror, I see the water dripping off my face, a tired face, a face that looks too old for the mere thirty years behind it.

As I head back to my room, my eyes arrest themselves briefly on a picture on the shelf. It is a picture of the three of us; Harada is in the back, flashing his usual big grin. He has his arms draped across Rika's shoulder and mine. I sport a small smile, her eyes shied away from the camera; we both look a little nervous and embarrassed. Harada's big frame filled up the space between us, taking up the center of the shot.

I close my bedroom door quietly behind me. Clock on the wall says 1:05 AM, still more than five hours left until morning, but after what I had just seen, I knew there would be no more rest in sleep tonight. I lie on my back and look up into nothing as scenes from that far away memory replay themselves in my mind. When I reach the end of the dream, when Rika placed her feet on the brink, my right arm subconsciously extends towards the ceiling, reaching, hoping to grasp and hold onto that fading form, a second before it all disappears.

_For we lose not only by death,  
But also by leaving and being left,  
By changing and letting go and moving on._

_--Judith Viorst_

**--Chapter 1-1: Shuu-chan's Dreams**

-----

It was a beautiful day in Tokyo, and the university's campus was alive with the chatter of the multitude of students moving about their classes with their friends. From the vantage point of his office, Professor Hanamoto Shuuji—thirty, single, and not in a relationship—looked down upon the bustle below as a number of girls, several of whom he recognized as his pupils, came out for lunch break. The sounds of their enthusiastic conversation drifted up and through the open window that he sat by, contrasting sharply with the relative silence of the office, of which he was the sole occupant.

"It must be great to be young…" The smoke from his cigarette drifted lazily upwards until a sudden breeze dissipated it into the bright blue skies outside.

Shuuji did not mind solitude. It was not that he preferred being alone, as obviously evidenced by his attachment—some say to the point of being unhealthy—to Hagu, but rather that he had acquired a taste for it as he adjusted to the circumstances of life. Lately, he had been having more than enough time to appreciate the quiet pleasures of being by himself, as Hagu spent more and more of her time with her new friends, or at work at the studio, away from home. He found himself eating out more often, since cooking for one was simply too impractical, and it might well have been the effects of this double deprivation of his two greatest pleasures in life—Hagu and cooking—that compelled him to smoke twice as much his already considerable regular quota.

In truth, Shuuji was growing quite sick of the pleasures of solitude.

Before this thought left his mind however, his office door slammed open and in flew Morita, springing with energy. "Yo, Sensei! Long time no see!"

Dragging deeply on his seventh cigarette that morning, the young professor immediately began to miss the solitude which he had just started to loathe a moment before. "Ah, Morita, energetic as usual I see."

The young man scratched the back of his head and laughed before replying. "Ahahaha, of course! My motto has always been 'Time is money!'"

Overlooking the awkward quote application, Shuuji doused his cigarette in an ashtray and said. "So, what brings you here today?"

"Got an assignment to do, humanity is the basic theme, but we're free to choose any specific theme. And…" A dark blush spread over the young man's cheek as he cast an abashed sidelong glance at the professor and spoke in a quiet, nervous tone. "If… if it's alright with Sensei, I would like to draw you…"

Shuuji, although a little revolted by Morita's impersonation of a school girl in the spring of youth, was nonetheless impressed that he would pick him as the subject for a drawing. Perceiving the respect which was accorded him as a teacher and senior, the young professor felt gratified, "Well, if you so insist, I suppose I will be your subject."

"Thank you so much, Sensei!" Morita hopped into the chair across from Shuuji's, and immediately went to work.

"So, what exactly is the theme you're addressing that made you think of me? The maturity of an adult? The charisma of a teacher?"

Morita looked up from his sketch pad and smiled brightly before shaking his head. "Nope, the title of my work is 'The Solitary Mid-life Crisis.'" He continued to smile brightly even after Shuuji choked violently on his tea and was hunched over clearing his throat.

"OI! I'm only thirty-one years old darn it!"

Without a pause to his work, Morita replied to his incensed elder in an offhanded tone. "Ah, is that so? Could hardly tell by just looking at you, in fact…" The young man leaned across the table in apparent scrutiny, "is that a gray hair I see?"

Shuuji's face grew dark as he cracked his knuckles audibly, "You…" Much to the professor's surprise however, Morita was apparently unfazed, and continued talking even as he loomed over him with a dangerous aura.

"You know, Sensei, it's not just me, but everyone feels that your behavior, especially of late, has resembled that of a tired old man." The suddenly earnest attitude of Morita gave Shuuji pause. "When you aren't teaching, you basically sit by yourself in here and chain smoke. Hagu tells me that on weekends you stay home and read all day… she's hardly ever seen you go out with your own friends."

Shuuji did not reply; he did not explain that the reason why he did not go out often was because there were very few people he considered himself familiar enough with to call friends.

"Maybe it's because you just don't have any people to hang out with aside from us." The proximity of the younger man's blunt observation from the truth made Shuuji's wince inwardly. "But that doesn't mean you need to start acting like a geezer contemplating retirement. Do things you enjoy! Take some risks in life, live a little, be happy! I mean, look at me, 25 and still in college, but I'm doing great!" Here, the young man seemed to radiate such optimism that his face appeared almost glowing. Unfortunately, Morita's bright outlook on life apparently did not rub off on his intended audience, as a weary-looking Shuuji put another cigarette in his mouth, his eighth of the day; he had a feeling he would be needing many more before Morita was finished.

But something in the eccentric young man's words had remained in Shuuji mind, as he once again diverted his attention towards the scenery outside the window. Taking the cigarette from his lips, he spoke absently to himself, "What I enjoy, huh…"

-----

Shuuji looked at the table on which his handiwork for the past hour was displayed. The clay pot holding the soup base for the nabe was sitting atop the electric hot plate. The leek, cabbage, and lettuce were cut into bite-sized pieces and artfully arranged on a large platter. Tofu, fish cake, shiitake, enoki, and shimmeji mushrooms, fine slices of beef, and clear harusame noodles… down to the two kinds of dipping sauce which he had prepared personally. The table was set, the rice was cooked, everything was ready to go.

All he needed now was someone to help him eat all of it.

"Argh… guess I did go a little overboard, I'm out of practice." Shuuji was stumped: After considering what Morita had said to him during the day, he decided that it might be worthwhile to return his attention back to some of the pursuits he used to enjoy, like cooking, and seeing how whispers of winter were just starting to set in, nabe sounded like a good idea.

So after work had ended, he went shopping, picking up along the aisles all the necessary ingredients for a delicious, wholesome meal… and then some, even splurging a little on particularly choice cuts of meat. As he expertly examined the market's selection of goods and produce, his mind calculated the complimentary effects the different ingredients would have on each other to create the richest flavor. The anticipation of seeing delight spread over Hagu's face when he surprised her with the feast had made him smile with an immense sense of satisfaction.

And so it was not far from the truth to say that a hefty figurative hammer fell on Shuuji's head when Hagu called back at around dinner time, saying that she had forgotten an important project deadline, and would not be coming home to eat. A dilemma now presented itself: the food had been prepared and laid out, so returning it to storage for another day was out of the question. He therefore had to proceed, but there was no way he could finish the painstakingly prepared meal by himself, and the thought of expensive meat and his hard work becoming leftovers was unbearable.

"Why not just call up another person?" he asked himself, slapping himself mentally for not thinking of the obvious solution sooner as he reached for the phone. The obvious solution, however, was not to be: Takemoto also had an imminent deadline and thus had no time to spare, Yamada had already eaten with her family, Mayama was expectedly swamped by his work, and Morita… well, he didn't know what happened to Morita, since his cell phone was turned off and he couldn't be reached at his apartment room, and should history be any indicator, will probably remain out of touch for the next half-month or so.

All of which added up to put Shuuji in the unenviable position of having prepared too much food, no one to eat it with, and no one left to invite. The young professor sank into a chair and lamented acting upon Morita's advice. "I really am pitiful… aside from my students, do I really have no friends of my own?" After a moments silent pondering, Shuuji's mouth opened slightly as he appeared to think of something, and picked up the phone once more.

-----

Inside her apartment suite several city blocks away, Harada Rika blinked, roused by the sound of a ringing phone. Brushing a few stray hairs away, she rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up, gathering her thoughts for a moment before realizing that she had fallen asleep at the design table, apparently for too long, for other than the light from the table lamp that made her squint, the house was dark and unlit. Picking up the cordless phone besides her, she glanced at the time, "It's already this late… Hello?"

"Hello? Is this Rika?"

Her eyes widened at the sound of the familiar voice. "… Shuuji?"

"That's right, long time no see, Rika-chan."

A small smile formed at her lips as she replied. "Long time no see, Hanamoto-kun."

"To tell the truth, I was wondering if you have had dinner yet. I've prepared nabe, you see, but made too much. So if you haven't already eaten…"

Rika, of course, had slept through dinner. "No, I haven't eaten yet, but…" A trace of hesitation was in her voice, and for a moment Shuuji thought she would decline the sudden offer. "… if it isn't too much trouble for you, then I guess I will intrude."

She could clearly hear his delight on the other end of the phone. "Really? That's great! I'll come pick you up…"

"No, no, its fine, I'll just take a taxi... see you in a bit." Setting the phone down upon the table, Rika rose from her seat, the effects of napping at an irregular hour and posture telling as she felt tired still rather than refreshed. Rika exhaled deeply as she surveyed her dark surroundings: Distant lights from the neighborhood entered through the windows and illuminated the interior of the spacious studio, casting a cold hue on everything inside the room. For a minute Rika took in the familiar, shadowy sight, and then walked towards her bedroom to prepare.

-----

Shuuji had been drying his hands with a piece of cloth in the kitchen when he heard the doorbell ring. He opened the door to find Rika standing outside, in a tan-colored jacket buttoned all the way up to keep out the evening chill. "Welcome! Sorry for calling you over so late."

"No… thanks for inviting me." As soon as she stepped in, Rika was immediately warmed by the heated interior of the brightly lit house. Taking her jacket, Shuuji led her to the dining table, where the hotpot was already boiling and giving off a delicious aroma.

The two seated themselves across from each other, whereupon Shuuji began to serve them both and add more ingredients. "Now, eat up! It's just the two of us, so don't hold back. If you hadn't come, I don't know what I would have done."

Rika regarded the bowl of food set before her. Taking it with both her hands, she raised it slowly to her lips as Shuuji looked on nervously, a veritable knot of anxiety forming in the pit of his stomach. He resumed breathing however when a look of surprise came onto Rika's face that soon turned into a smile as she set the bowl down, a warm glow spreading across her pale complexion. "Delicious…"

"Haha, is that so? Thank goodness. It's been a while since I seriously cooked, and I was afraid that I might've messed something up." His worst fear now aside, Shuuji picked up his chopsticks and began to eat, his appetite evidently bolstered by Rika's favorable reception of his cooking.

Rika watched Shuuji eat for a moment before returning her attention back to her plate. "It's been a long time since I had your cooking… It tastes even better than I remembered." Saying this, she picked up and admired a slice of carrot skillfully fashioned into the shape of a flower before placing it in her mouth.

Shuuji seemed to contemplate this comment as he chewed. "Yes, it has been a long time since we last ate together, hasn't it…" Standing up from his seat, he extended his arm across the table and placed several pieces of fish into Rika's bowl from his own. "Here, try some of this carp. I made the dipping sauce for it myself."

A mild look of amusement and appreciation came across Rika's face when she saw how there was still plenty of food in her dish. In her mind, she wondered whether dinner at the Hanamoto residence usually proceeded like this; the image of her old friend constantly pressing more food onto Hagu-chan brought a smile to her face, and she marveled at how the girl managed to remain so small in spite of how Shuuji must be feeding her.

For the next several minutes the two adults concentrated on the food in front of them, the bubbling sound of the hotpot underscoring the cozy atmosphere at the dinner table. After his third helping, Shuuji took a break with his teeth to observe his friend. His forehead creased into a frown when he saw how thin her neck and wrists still were, an indicator of how she had not been eating properly. Consciously placing more meat into the pot, he asked. "So, how have you been doing lately? Is the recovery coming along?"

"Yes… though I still can not move around quickly, I am doing much better than when I had to rely on a walking stick. And you? How have you been doing? You seem a little tired…"

Caught off guard, Shuuji looked up and saw the concern in his friend's eyes. "Eh? Ah… just been smoking a bit too much lately." He laughed sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. Rika did not inquire further, and another moment of quiet passed before Shuuji renewed the conversation. "How's Mayama?"

Rika placed her bowl down. "He's doing well at his new job. Someone from the design firm he works at is an acquaintance of mine, and she says that Mayama-kun has been a tremendous help to them."

Shuuji listened to Rika's words as he gazed into the frothing surface of the pot, which continued to bubble quietly. "So… you have not been seeing him lately?"

In the silence, a sigh ever so slight was heard before Rika replied. "Mayama-kun… he's called me several times, visited a few times, even showed up at the door unexpectedly once or twice." She chuckled quietly to herself as she recalled the events. "That child… he's reliable, and strong, but…" Shuuji watched as she slid her right hand onto her left wrist, where the bracelet Mayama had put on her several months ago was now conspicuously absent. "… He tries so hard, I think he doesn't know when to give up sometimes."

Shuuji didn't reply, but merely stirred the nabe without a word and placed more ingredients into the simmering pot. After a while, he reached over and picked up Rika's empty bowl. As she looked on, he ladled several meatballs into the dish along with more clear broth, and then set it down in front of her. "Eat up, it's chicken meatball… your favorite."

Rika regarded him intently, slightly confused. "… I thought you didn't like these very much."

Shuuji shrugged as he added the harusame noodles, the last ingredient to go in a nabe, and sat back down. "Well, I made them for you, that's why." When she said nothing but looked at him, Shuuji fidgeted a little under her gaze and looked away. "Anyways… just eat up or it will get cold."

When she bit into the succulent flesh, the savory juices from the meat mixed with the broth to create a soothing sensation that seemed to spread through her palate. Ever so gradually, a warm smile spread across Rika's face as she looked across at her friend. "I think that… someday, Hanamoto-kun will make a wonderful husband for someone." The remark's timing caused Shuuji to catch a piece of mushroom in his throat, and the minor pandemonium that resulted made Rika chuckle with genuine mirth in her voice this time, a detail the choking professor mentally noted between his own dramatic bouts of hacking.

At the conclusion of the meal, the two cleared the table together. Standing side by side in front of the kitchen sink, Shuuji rinsed and handed the dishes to Rika, who dried them with a clean cloth and placed them in a dish rack. At one point, as Shuuji scrubbed the bottom of the large pot, he remarked nonchalantly to the woman standing besides him. "So… you really think that someone would be willing to accept me at this age? An obscure arts teacher renting a one bedroom apartment?"

Rika turned her head towards her old friend. "I've made you worried about that, haven't I?" She smiled lightly when she heard him mumble a muted reply in the negative. "I think someone with Hanamoto-kun's qualities would have no trouble finding a partner… you just haven't tried, that's all." At these words, Shuuji paused his work and lifted his head towards Rika, who had already returned to her task. He gazed quietly at her for a moment before he too went back to scrubbing.

Ten minutes later, the two stood facing each other at the entryway before the door as Rika buttoned on her jacket. "I have not had such a wonderful meal in a long time… thank you for inviting me over."

Shuuji was pleased to see that the nabe had returned much color to Rika's complexion. "No, no, the pleasure is all mine, you just helped me out. You sure you don't need me to drive you home?"

Rika smiled at Shuuji. "I will be alright, I have troubled you enough already." She finished buttoning her jacket. "Then, I'll be taking my leave now…"

When she opened the door, a gust of chilly air rushed into the house. Shuuji, dressed in just a plain dress shirt, realized then just how cold it was outside. After seeing Rika shiver a little and wrap her arms around herself, he pulled the door shut. "Hold on, wait just a moment." He disappeared back inside, and returned a few minutes later with a woolen scarf and a paper bag. "Here, use this. I also put in a thermos some left over soup. Heat it up for breakfast after you go home or something."

Rika was slightly taken aback when Shuuji proceeded to put the scarf on her. "But… Shuuji, there's no need for this, it's not that cold even…"

"Then… think of it as indulging me then, okay?" She remained quiet after that, watching him wound the soft material around her neck, large hands working slowly and carefully. When he finished, he took a step back to examine his work, and was satisfied to see that her cheeks had already begun to glow with warmth. "Much better. Now you are ready to go. So I guess I'll see you later. Feed you next time maybe?"

She nodded and smiled gently. "Un, that sounds nice."

"Then… good night, Rika, take care."

"Good night, Shuuji, and…" As Rika spoke, her right hand began to reach towards his, but then she appeared to hesitate, and drew it back to her side. "…Look after yourself; try not to smoke so much… ne?"

"Ah…" Shuuji returned Rika's concerned smile with his own. "I'll try."

-----

When Hagu arrived at the apartment building where she and Shuuji lived, she saw a taxi in front and a vaguely familiar figure climbing into it. Walking by the vehicle, she recognized her as Shuuji's friend who sometimes visited him at school, and also the beige wool scarf that she wore as his own. When she unlocked the door to their apartment, she found her uncle sitting in the living room, appearing to be laid back and deep in thought at the same time. He brightened up when Hagu entered. "Ah, Hagu, welcome home. Did you finish your work? Did you eat?"

"Mhmm, I did, and I'm almost finished. How about you Shuu-chan? Sorry that I didn't come back for dinner…"

"Ah, zenzen-okay, don't worry about it. I had a friend come over."

"The one who left just now? The lady you knew from college?"

"Rika, that's right."

"I see…" As Hagu unbuttoned her jacked and started towards her room, she caught a glimpse of her uncle looking out towards the the city, and perceived a slightly different atmosphere about him than from the morning: What had been a grayness that made him seem continuously weary of late was fading, and in its place she felt a disposition that could only be described as varied, confused even: It was a rejuvenated air, a more hopeful air, intertwined with melancholy, reminiscence… and a trace of longing.

**--Chapter 1-2: Dinner for Two.**


	2. Chapter 2

Pieces of Our Lives: A Honey and Clover story

By Cal-Reflector

**Author's notes and Disclaimer:** Let me tell you, there are plenty more desireable activities than reloading and editing stories which you wrote two months agoand checked a dozen times already, at nearly one AM in the morning, on a school day. But then, I'm too much a perfectionist for my own good, and Hachikuro deserves nothing less. I'm sure the true Hachikuro devotees will understand.

I do not own Honey and Clover. If I did, I would not let princess Ayu suffer such excessive heartbreak; just the right amount to prompt her to move on... into Morita's embrace. That's right, you heard me, Morita. These two would make a fun couple, wouldn't you agree?

* * *

The sound of the door opening startles me, and I quickly spin around, blocking the view to the canvas from the entrance. Shuu-chan appears in the doorway with an open book in hand, apparently to check on my progress. "Sorry to disturb you. Working hard there, Hagu?" 

"Yup, I'm getting a lot done!"

Shuu-chan grins at me, leaning against the doorframe between his office and the adjacent room, which he converted to a studio for my use after I first came. "I see. Then, I'll leave you to your work." I watch him until the door shuts completely before turning back to my work. The rough outline is nearly finished, and perhaps by tomorrow I can start coloring, but… slowly, I close my eyes to envision it all again.

_The scenery in my painting appears all around me: Shuu-chan and I are resting on top of a hill covered fully in clovers and dotted with vivid flowers. We lie down side by side, with a checkered picnic blanket beneath us, the wonderful scent all around us, and look up at the light feathery clouds floating above; we have the entire world to ourselves. I point out different shapes formed by clouds, he scratches his chin in a solemn professor-like way, and says that my cat looks more like a pig; I puff my cheeks at him for teasing me, he reaches his big hand over and rubs my head._

_We laugh together. It is just the two of us, and it is more than enough. But somehow… the picture was not right._

I open my eyes, that picturesque world vanishes, and I find myself sitting alone in the quiet studio. I return my attention to the canvas in front of me. I can not draw the Shuu-chan I want: I can not visualize that look of true happiness on his face.

Lately, Shuu-chan has not been very cheerful, and though he always has a smile prepared for me, even on that night when he had the scary dream, I know that he is doing it just to keep me from worrying.

And I am worried about you, Shuu-chan. Hagu has been watching the whole time: You talk a little less now, you smoke a little more now, and your laughter is little quieter than it used to be. I was sad when you became like this. I thought that it was Hagu's fault; when I decided to stay in Tokyo after you asked me to go with you to Mongolia. I thought I had made you unhappy, because I was leaving you by yourself. I hoped that once you came back and we were together again you would be happier again...

… But that was not the reason. There is a hole in Shuu-chan's heart right now, a dark, deep hole that I can not fill, even though I want to so badly. I can not fill it, because Hagu was not the one who made it. That emptiness in Shuu-chan's heart was there a long, long time ago, even before Hagu came to stay with you. It is what makes your smile always hide a little sadness, it is what causes you to look far away sometimes. Little by little, as time goes by, I feel that void growing deeper… but I can not do anything.

I love you so much, Shuu-chan, do you know? Hagu may be making new friends and spending time away from you, but I still love Shuu-chan the most. You were the one who showed me a new world by bringing me to Tokyo, where I can do all the things I love, where I have found friends who I have come to cherish. When I come home, Shuu-chan is there waiting for me, and we talk and eat dinner together, and Shuu-chan nags me about eating vegetables… I did not have such things back then. Back then, Hagu could not talk happily at dinner, could not have friends to laugh with, and all I could draw was the same scenery over and over again.

Do you remember? Just before you left on your trip, everyone helped me look for a four leaf clover. Hagu cried, because I could not find one to give you; it was so that your dreams could come true, so you would stay safe and healthy. You said to Hagu then that it was alright, that I already gave you very much.

But do you know how much you have given me, Shuu-chan?

That's why I will work hard: Hagu will do her best and make more and more beautiful things, and make more and more friends, and grow up to be strong and be happy, so Shuu-chan will know how much he has done for me, and never have to worry. That's why I will draw this painting, because I wish with all my heart that Shuu-chan can be happy too. That this time, for sure, your dreams will come true, and someone will come who can fill the hole in Shuu-chan's heart.

Just like how Shuu-chan filled the hole in my heart.

**--Chapter 2-1: Hagu's wish**

-----

It was an overcast afternoon in Tokyo, where winter had truly begun to arrive. Brief and mild drizzles fell intermittently throughout the day; just enough to be a nuisance but not enough to dampen the spirits of the city's numerous inhabitants, who carried on busily in spite of the uncomfortable cold and wetness. Forecasters predicted an early snow this year, and as temperatures dropped and the year wound down towards its final month, the atmosphere on campus was one of anticipation and excitement as students and staff looked forward towards the holiday festivities. Those who had a special someone made plans accordingly, those who did not made plans to find a special someone, and those unable to achieve either made their own plans as well… to commiserate with similarly fated comrades and together celebrate yet another year passed in unwilling solitude.

Far removed from such bittersweet dramas of youth, Hanamoto Shuuji was presently waging a furious battle against his office space, which in seeming physics-defying fashion stubbornly refused to become reorganized into a presentable state. Papers strewn across desks, books stacked haphazardly from floor to ceiling, document files disgorged like confetti from overflowing cabinets. It had been far too long since he cleaned the place, during which the mess had multiplied in severity of disorder until it cumulated in its present state of administrative bedlam.

But Shuuji was not a feeble-hearted weakling easily daunted; a refined scholar of arts though he was, he was still a man, a man who could roll up his sleeve and summon the strength to accomplish great feats of physical exertion when the occasion arose. And so he wrestled and shoved; he lifted, pushed, and pulled until after a long struggle he tamed the beast that was the mess in his room and emerged victorious. When Hagu walked in twenty minutes later, she found the office to be in an extraordinary state of cleanliness, with all papers filed away and all books and articles restored to their proper places. It was truly a magnificent sight to behold, one which left Hagu wondering what sudden impetus could have motivated Shuuji to perform such a dramatic deed.

Presently, Shuuji had stationed himself next to a cupboard with his back resting against the wall, taking a moment to rest as he loosened his dark green tie and the collar of his dress shirt. Next to him, a large black and silver toned coffee machine sat atop the cupboard and percolated away. Hagu came up next to her uncle, a smile appearing on her face as she closed her eyes and whiffed the rich, pleasant aroma that filled the air. "It smells wonderful, Shuu-chan. Is that a new coffee machine?"

"Yup, I bought it just several days ago. Thought it might help ease my nerves as I cut back on smoking… I'm glad you like it." Shuuji appeared relaxed and pleased by this new acquisition, though it did not escape Hagu's notice when his fingers twitched a bit at the mention of his long-standing habit. Here was yet another mystery in addition to the sudden makeover of the room: Hagu did not know when or why Shuuji resolved to start smoking less, but the unpleasant scent of tobacco which was usually heavy around her uncle was indeed largely absent now.

For a while, uncle and niece enjoyed the silence and the pleasant bubbling sounds coming from the handsome coffee machine. Then Shuuji remembered something. "Ah, that's right. Hagu, I forgot to tell you something." He bent down to face towards his niece. "Today, I invited a friend to join us for tea. She should be arriving anytime now."

Hagu's curiosity was aroused. "Who's coming?"

"You know her—my friend from college, Rika."

After a moment's pondering, Hagu recalled the night in front of their apartment building. "Is she the lady whom you had over for dinner and lent your scarf to, about a week ago?"

Shuuji scratched his face a bit. "Well, yeah... that's her. So is it okay if she joins us?"

"Mhmm, no problem, because she's Shuu-chan's friend."

The young professor grinned. "Great! Oh… hold on, I think that's her arriving right now." Shuuji said as he straightened up and looked towards the entrance to the university. Quickly grabbing his overcoat from a chair and moving towards the door, he turned around just as he was about to leave. "Sorry Hagu, but could you get out some cups and dishes from the cupboard? I have some snacks as well in there."

"Ok, leave it to me, Shuu-chan." After Shuuji left, Hagu proceeded to fetch the proper utensils. Since a year ago, she and her uncle had begun having teas together in his office, and over time it had grown into a tradition of sorts for the two, to meet once or twice a week by themselves to chat and enjoy each other's company over refreshments. It was never an outright stated rule, but everyone, even Morita, had understood that this was their private time together.

Which is why Hagu found it unusual when for the first time, they would be joined by someone else for tea. Opening the proper cupboard, Hagu extended her full length to reach for her own mug—one with her name and a flower logo inscribed on it—and Shuuji's, which was of a warm earth-toned color. She then returned to find another one for Rika, picking out a round tapered cup of white porcelain. When Hagu had finished setting the table and brought out the bowl of crackers and biscuits, she climbed onto a stool by the window and looked outside.

The sky remained gray with no signs of clearing up. The wind had picked up a little, scurrying a number of loose leaves into the air. Shuuji was returning from the direction of the front entrance to the college, walking closely side by side with who must have been Rika. From a distance Hagumi observed that she limped a little and could not walk very quickly. At one point she stumbled against an uneven spot in the pavement, but Shuuji quickly caught her before she fell and helped her regain her footing.

A few minutes later, the door to the office slid open and the two adults entered. Hagu recognized the scarf that Rika wore as the same one she saw that night when she was coming home. Shuuji proceeded to present his guest. "I don't think I've formally introduced you two to each other. Rika-chan, this is my niece, Hanamoto Hagumi. She is staying with me right now. Hagu, this is my dear friend Harada Rika. Rika and I have known each other since our first year in college."

Rika bowed lightly to the deceptively childish-looking girl who she knew to be near twenty years of age. "I'm Harada Rika, pleased to meet you." She smiled gently as she made eye contact with Hagumi. "Shuuji has told me a lot about you, Hagu-chan."

Hagu gazed intently at the face of the woman before her; she felt her cheeks began to glow bright pink when she realized that she was staring. When she returned Rika's bow, she kept her eyes on the ground and spoke in a timid voice that trailed off towards the end. "I… I am Hanamoto Hagumi, pleased to meet you…"

Aware of Hagumi's shyness before Rika, Shuuji held up a decorated box for her to see. "Look Hagu, Rika brought us some pudding cake!" The mention of one of her favorite delicacies had an instant alleviating effect on the abashed girl's nervousness, and Hagumi's eyes began to shine. "Shall we eat it together?" Shuuji chuckled and Rika smiled when Hagu nodded her head vigorously in response.

Shuuji poured steaming cups of coffee for Rika and himself, adding only a little bit of the dark brew to Hagu's mug, which he filled with milk. Hagumi served the cake, and when they had seated themselves and were just about to begin, the door to the office slid open and a bespectacled student came in, his face scrunched into a frown. Shuuji recognized the third-year as one of his student assistants. "Yo, Yamase-kun, what's the matter?"

"I'm so sorry to interrupt you sensei, but…" He motioned for a private word with the professor. After listening to the student speak in quiet undertones, Shuuji nodded and turned towards his two guests who were waiting at the table.

"Sorry, but I need to take care of something first. You two go ahead and start, I won't be too long." With that, he stepped out of the room.

The room became quiet after Shuuji left. Hagu eyed her slice of cake eagerly and swallowed. Rika, taking notice of the younger girl's appetite, said to her. "Hagu-chan, if you are hungry, please go ahead."

Hagu hesitated, but encouraged by Rika's smile and unable to resist the pudding cake that sat so enticingly before her, she relented and dug in. Rika watched the girl eat happily before opening two packets of sugar and emptying the contents into her mug. When she realized that Hagu was watching her, Rika explained with a slightly embarrassed tone. "It's because I don't like bitter things."

"Ah, me too! That's why Shuu-chan only adds a few drops to my milk." The two smiled at each other in their new-found rapport. Outside, a light drizzle began to fall, and the sound of rain drops created a welcome backdrop to the cozy atmosphere in the room.

In between forkfuls of cake, Hagu's eyes rested upon on Rika, who sat on her right hand side. This was the first time she saw Shuuji's old friend up close, the only other times being the night before and from pictures. Compared to images of the young, somewhat timid girl kept in Shuuji's old photo albums, the Rika in front of her now was poised and enchanting. Dressed in a lavender dress blouse and dark brown skirt that extended to half way down her calf, she rested her slender arms on top of the table and from time to time brought the steaming mug to her lips, sipping the rich, dark brew. Hagu was spellbound, captivated by the tranquil and studied beauty that Rika possessed.

But she noticed too that the elder woman seemed a little frail; her wrists were too thin and her skin was fine and pale. Hagu saw that her calm was accompanied by an air of emptiness, her grace weighted down by a hint of sadness… as if she were an exquisite flower, delicate and lovely, but had lost the colors from her petals; drained, washed out and bent by the torrents of a heavy rain.

It struck Hagu that the impression she received from Rika felt very close, very similar to someone familiar.

"Rika-san…" Rika turned towards Hagu, who had placed her fork down. "You… have known Shuu-chan for a long time right?" Rika smiled and nodded, prompting Hagu to continue. "… Could you tell me what he used to be like?"

Rika took a sip of her drink then set the mug down before answering. "Hanamoto-kun, your uncle, was… very responsible. He kept things in order, and made sure that we always ate right, even when we didn't have much money for him to buy ingredients to cook with." Dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin, she continued on as her expression became one of deep reminiscence. "He was… not the most talented of artists, but he worked hard and was always ready to help others, so everyone liked having him around. He was always thinking about others before himself, a really kind man… maybe too kind, which is why…"

Rika did not finish the sentence. She closed her eyes and shook her head lightly before she looked up to Hagu and smiled. "In fact… he has not changed at all. Just like then, he is still … one of the most compassionate, warm-hearted people I know."

The sense of familiarity returned once more, and Hagu found herself warming to this woman, whose image of her beloved uncle matched so closely with her own. Scrambling off her seat, Hagu ran into her studio next door and soon returned with the painting that she had been working on, holding it up for Rika to see. "It's a painting of Shuu-chan and me. I'm making this so I can give it to him later as a surprise."

Rika found herself deeply moved by the drawing; the work, despite its unfinished state, displayed a tremendous amount of artistic intuition and earnestly conveyed Hagu's wish; her intense desire for her uncle's happiness. Taking the canvas with the hands, Rika replied in an awed tone. "… It's very beautiful, Hagu-chan."

The short girl became a bit downcast as Rika handed the picture back to her. "Shuu-chan… has been very gloomy lately. That's why Hagu wanted to do something to cheer him up." She returned the painting to its hiding place and came back, considerably brightened as she remembered the latest bit of good news. "Ah, but I think he's starting to feel a little better though! He just told me that he was going to start smoking less. That's why he bought a new coffee machine."

A look of surprise appeared for a moment on Rika's face before she smiled and laid her hand on Hagumi's head. "That's wonderful to hear! It must be because of Hagu-chan that Hanamoto-kun is doing better, right? After all, who could be unhappy for long when you are nearby? Hanamoto-kun is very lucky to have you around."

Hagu looked at Rika's face intently, a trace of doubt forming above her brows as she pressed her lips together tightly, wanting to say what was on her mind but hesitant. "I… I don't think it's me…" Her sentence was cut short when the door slid open and Shuuji returned, an annoyed expression on his face.

"Ah, sorry that it took so long… Eh? What's with you two? Did I interrupt something?"

Rika chuckled at the puzzled look on her friend's face. "Yes, you did. We were just having an important conversation between women." She turned back towards the slightly confused girl and gave her a confidential look. "Right, Hagu-chan?" Hagu caught on, smiled and nodded in return, causing Shuuji to cock his head and frown cluelessly, wondering just what had passed between the two during his absence.

The three of them chatted happily together about a variety of subjects. Rika was particularly delighted to hear all the tales Hagu had to share, and Hagu was thrilled to find an eager audience to tell her stories to, from the crazy antics of Morita (and the longsuffering of Takemoto, the frequent victim of the said crazy antics) to the bold cooking experiments she did with Yamada when the two were living together. Shuuji was, for the most part, content to simply listen to and laugh along with the two, the sight of his niece so animated and Rika enjoying herself giving him such satisfaction as he had not felt since the night he cooked hotpot for Rika and himself. As he watched Hagu gesture excitedly in order to enhance the storytelling, Shuuji smiled self-indulgently and raised his cup to his lips, immensely gratified and confident that nothing in the world could ruin this perfect afternoon.

Which was why, in his state of peaceful bliss, the warning signs in his mind began popping up just a moment too late, having failed to notice that the topic of the conversation had moved away from Hagu's friends and onto himself.

"… and then Shuu-chan's old professor with the white beard said that Shuu-chan would lie in bed all day, sometimes for many days, moaning and groaning Hagu's name at drawings of me he pinned on the walls."

A sinking feeling began to seep into the young professor's heart when he saw Rika chuckle and turn towards him, an amused expression on her face. Shuuji swallowed and paled a little, fearful of what other less mentionable aspects of his private life his niece might divulge next. "Umm… that… Rika… uhh… Hagu, maybe you shouldn't…"

But Hagu was on a roll, and in her excitement failed to notice the pitiful pleading looks that her uncle was directing towards her. "Rika-san may think that Shuu-chan is very mature, but sometimes he is still childish."

"Oh? And what does Hanamoto-kun do that makes Hagu-chan think that way?"

"Well, he still has scary dreams. Shuu-chan even woke me up about a week ago when he woke up crying Rika-san's name…" Hagu's words trailed off when she noticed the atmosphere change; Rika, who had been listening to her intently this entire time, now appeared mildly taken aback, her mouth open a little. An uncomfortable silence hung thick in the air, and Hagu became uneasy once more, as she looked back and forth worriedly between Rika and Shuuji. "Umm… is… something wrong?"

Neither of the adults replied. Shuuji gritted his teeth and wished that he could disappear from the room as confused mortification washed over him and caused his mind to nearly go blank. With a heavy heart racing with nervousness, he forced himself to remove his vision from his shoes and see Rika's response. She also had her eyes directed towards the ground, and held her hands tightly in her lap. Their eye locked with each other's when she turned to face him; gazing at her face, Shuuji saw what he imagined might have been a reflection of his own state of mind: conflicted, uncertain, unreadable.

It was the last expression that Shuuji wanted to see. "Rika, I…"

"Mouse Number One!" The startled three in the room snapped their heads towards the direction of the shout, where Morita had flung open the door emphatically with a bang that threatened to shatter the glass on the window. Shuuji stared speechlessly as Morita marched in with chest puffed out and head held high, his pace completely unhindered by the lumpy burden attached around his right leg that was Takemoto.

"Sempai! Please stop! You mustn't do such a thing!" At the moment, the oft-picked-upon young man was near tears as he desperately wrapped his arms around Morita's right leg, trying and failing to stop his sempai as he was dragged unceremoniously across the floor like a mop while clinging on with all his might.

Morita stomped his way forward until he stood towering before Hagu, an expression of steeled determination on his usually goofy face. He thrust out a suspiciously pink and effeminately styled bag towards the girl, who reached for it with shaking hands, herself on the verge of nervous tears. In a tone that could only be construed as a direct command, Morita said to her. "Wear this."

Shuuji felt his heart stop beating when he saw the contents of Morita's "gift:" From the bag Hagu withdrew a yellow one-piece bathing suit, the old-fashioned type which might have dressed little girls named Veronica on their days to the beach in early 20th century picture books. The design incorporated heavy use of frilly edges and other charmingly antiquated elements of fashion coquetry…

… was what Shuuji would have said, had he been in the mood for artistic appreciation. Presently a figurative volcano began to rumble and boil in the young professor's soul as his vision turned red and thoughts of violent behavior too graphic to be described on paper filled his mind; several veins popped out on his temples.

The imminent eruption was brusquely snuffed out however, when instead of running to her uncle in tears, Hagu broke out in a beaming smile and held up the offending article of dress in an admiring light, even going so far as to do a few twirls of joy which, had he not been so rudely flabbergasted, Shuuji would have found utterly adorable under any other given circumstance. "Oh! It's so cute!" Hagu ran with her new prize to her uncle. "Shuu-chan, look, look! Isn't it cute?"

"…Gah?" Said Shuu-chan, his verbal abilities incapacitated by confusion.

The eighth-year student nodded to himself, a look of understanding on his face. "Sensei must be overwhelmed by the awesome vision of art this opportunity presents, just like how I felt when I first saw this item on display." Patting the debilitated professor on the shoulder, Morita continued in all seriousness. "I knew then that this suit, a symbol of absolute innocence and purity, was meant for Mouse Number One; that the moment she and this bathing suit became one, my greatest vision of art yet would be complete."

Not minding the fact that Shuuji showed no indication of understanding, or even hearing, any of his words, the young man took Hagu's hand and proceeded towards the door, with Takemoto still clinging desperately to his leg. "Now, it's off to the studio! My burning soul, my vision of art will not wait!" Turning one last time towards the stunned professor, Morita took up Shuuji's limp hand and gripped it tightly with both of his own, and in a tone so brimming with sincerity and earnestness that a tear glistened in his eye, he said to the man. "Do not worry, Father. I swear with my life that I will give your daughter happiness!" With that, Morita spun around and made his exit with Hagu and Takemoto, leaving naught but the echo of his uproarious laughter lingering in the hallways.

Morita's final statement had reached through the chaos in Shuuji's befuddled mind to click with his brain and bring it back online. Presently the young professor's shoulders began to tremble, and then like an arrow unleashed he snapped back to life and raced to the door and roared down the hall with such force that a number of heads turned around. "WHO… who the heck are you calling DAD? Ahh? Morita!"

The unexpected sound of laughter behind him caused Shuuji, panting and tightly wound to the point of breaking, to turn around. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw Rika shaking lightly, one hand around her abdomen and the other covering her mouth as she attempted to suppress the laughs. Shuuji gazed wonderingly at his friend, his temper forgotten. "Rika…"

Recovering herself and catching her breath, Rika exhaled and sat down on a chair. "Excuse me… I… I've just never seen you act like that, just now. It was just… too funny…" She started chuckling once more as Shuuji began to feel his face heat up, the silliness of the scene he just created beginning to dawn on him. "Hanamoto-kun acted so much like a dad just now."

Shuuji reddened further at the remark and shifted his feet uncomfortably, scratching his face. "… Don't say things like that. I'm only thirty-one, still too young to be someone's dad you know." The reminder to his over-protectiveness and over-maturity bothered him a little, but when he saw Rika smiling at him with such amusement in her eyes, Shuuji's could not help but relax the tension which he had been holding in. He even started to appreciate how abrupt and absurdly funny the last five minutes of his customarily boring life had been, and began to laugh as well. In the midst of their joviality, neither of the two realized the significance of the moment—that for the first time in many years, since Harada passed away, they were laughing together once more.

**--Chapter 2-2: Tea for Three**


	3. Chapter 3

Pieces of Our Lives: A Honey and Clover story

By Cal-Reflector

**Author's notes and Disclaimer:** Currently listening to the newly released Hachikuro OST Since I believe that caffeine is bad for one's health in general, I'm using music as a stimulant instead to keep myself from mispelling things at this unlawfully-late hour... 1 AM. Track #23 comes on ... now I'm seeing visions of Morita-sama, sleep-deprived as I am and holding ten-kilogram bags of croquettes in each hand. Anyways...

I do not own Honey and Clover. If I did, I would... well, aside from pounding some sense into Shuuji so that he'd stop being so selfless for once and just pursue Rika with reckless abandon, I'd change very little; more Morita is always a good thing, and more Takemoto, and more Hagu and Ayu and... you get the idea.

* * *

The hands on my watch indicate that it is 5:20 in the afternoon. The sun has set and it is already dark outside as street lights and store signs began to flicker on. I place my glasses on the desk and rub my eyes, wearied by another long day at work after just two-and-a-half hours of sleep the previous night. The firm's last project with an imminent deadline is finally finished however, so for the first time in nearly a month the staff will be able to enjoy a free weekend; free to eat something other than convenience store selections for dinner and sleep in the comfort of their own beds.

Putting my glasses back on, I see a co-worker, Shinpei, standing next to me. "Man, Mayama, you look like you're about to drop dead."

I lean back in my leather swivel chair, grunting as I stretch my arms out behind my head. "That would not be very far from the truth."

"I figured that after all those inhuman hours you put in, you'd probably want to hit the sack and not wake up till Sunday afternoon. But if you can keep those eyelids open for just a couple more hours, several of us are going to hit the bars, then maybe karaoke afterwards… how about it?" The lanky interior designer, himself sporting a few rings under his eyes, grins at me wryly as he leans closer and his tone becomes low and confidential. "…The ladies would be thrilled to have you along, you know."

I chuckle and shake my head. "Thanks… but as you can see, I'm in no shape to go out tonight and wouldn't be much good to you, so I'll have to pass."

"Yeah, that's a shame huh…" Shinpei sighs dramatically as he straightens up and turns around. "Oh well, guess I'll go break the bad news to the girls. You, my friend, go home and get some rest."

I watch as Shinpei rejoins his party and leaves the office in a group, then begin gathering things into my suitcase as I prepare to go home for the first time in nearly three days.

The drive back is a routine affair: the usual congestion of the evening rush-hour, the usual radio stations repeating the same news as yesterday, the usual sights along the usual roads… At the next intersection, I make a turn that takes me onto a familiar avenue, removed from the noise and busy traffic on the main street which heads towards the old student apartment where I still live. I park against the sidewalk and pull up the collar of my overcoat as I step out onto the road, my breath clearly visible in the air.

Lowering myself onto a bench, I lift my eyes towards the fourth floor of an apartment high-rise across the street; the light in her window is out tonight. I dig my hands into my jacket pockets for my cigarettes and lighter. Dragging deeply, I fill my lungs with the stinging but smoothing vapors before I exhale the fumes and watch them dissipate into thin air.

_What is it that keeps me coming back here, again and again, like a man possessed?_

_Why can't I give her up, after trying and failing to make her mine so many times?_

_Why can't she be mine? Why won't she be mine?_

These are the usual thoughts that run through my mind whenever I come here, to this place, where I sit, smoke, and gaze up into the window of her home and workplace.

It has been nearly three years since I first met her, Harada Rika. At the beginning of my last year in college, I came to Harada Design Firm as a part-timer with Hanamoto sensei's recommendation. She was sensei's old friend, and almost seven years my senior. She had projects lined up but not enough help, I needed job experience for my resume; It seemed like a perfect opportunity for all three of us.

As time went by I came to know a side of her that shocked me. I saw how brutal the scars on her body were from that accident which took her husband's life and left her in never ending pain. I saw how she tossed and turned in bed, tortured, singed by the flames from the nightmares. I saw how she cried during those nightmares, with heartrending agony, time after time, her dead husband's name. I never saw her shed a tear, no matter how broken she was, but I saw that underneath her smiles—so heartbreakingly beautiful that I ached inside—she hid her scarred and darkened soul where the tears flowed unrestricted, tears that she would never let me know existed.

I never imagined that I could fall so completely, so helplessly, so utterly for someone.

Dropping the stub to the ground and crushing it with my feet, I light another cigarette and put it between my lips. The temperature drops further, and the chill begins to seep through the layers I am wearing; the light in her apartment window remains dark.

Countless times have I tried to reach her, to have her open herself to me so that I might stop the pain inside; countless times have I exhorted her to yield unto me, to dismantle her barriers so that I might enter and fill that painful void. But no matter how close we became, no matter how much intimacy and trust I gained, in the end I could never get her to surrender completely, and then she would pull away from me, withdraw from me, and her heart would go once more to that man who was no more.

"… You're incredible, you know, Harada-san?" I let the hardly touched cigarette fall from my lips and grind it slowly into the pavement with the heel of my right foot. "Even after so many years, she still only lets you into her heart. Even though you've died and gone away, just the memory of you leaves no room for me…"

I stand up and start walking towards the car, my mind filled with the face of the man whom I know only from pictures and the description from others; the man called Harada, whose name Rika never brings up in front of me but can never forget; whose mere presence keeps her from freedom, from happiness and moving on… with me.

"I will not lose… I will not be beaten by her memories of you."

_In a full heart there is room for everything,  
And in an empty heart there is room for nothing  
--Antonio Porchia_

**Chapter 3-1: Mayama's Resolve**

**-----**

Yamada Ayumi sat in front of a potter's wheel, her deft hands gently but firmly forming the mound of clay until it gradually began to take shape. She was by herself this afternoon, and the empty studio was quiet but for the soothing whirr from the spinning wheel and distant sounds of activity elsewhere on campus.

Shuuji had been watching her silently from the doorway, unwilling to distract the girl in any way from her work. He had always been captivated by the degree of concentration Yamada possessed whenever she took her seat in front of the potter's wheel, and to admire her creative process was a privileged experience that never failed to bring him a tremendous amount of pleasure.

Presently the whir of the potter's wheel came to a stop, and he saw Yamada sit back and relax her shoulders. With a length of string she sliced the newly formed cup at the base and held it up for closer examination. Even from a distance the young professor saw that it was another perfectly crafted piece and, unable to contain his feelings of appreciation any further, he began to applaud. "Well done, Yamada-kun."

The girl smiled at the professor and headed towards the sink to wash her hands. "Thank you, sensei, but it's nothing special really."

"Only you can make it look so easy, the way you're able to churn out masterpiece after masterpiece with hardly any errors to speak of." Shuuji walked up next to the sink and held out a towel to her. "At this rate, even one full exhibition won't be enough to showcase all of your works."

Yamada grinned widely and took the towel from Shuuji's hands. "That's why I asked sensei to come today, to be a second opinion and help me choose which pieces I ought to use."

The young professor followed Yamada as she went back to retrieve the cup she just made and place it on a shelf to dry. "Well, I certainly have no problems with that… as long as you save me one of your works before they're all snatched up by the highest bidders."

Ayu laughed in response as she unfastened her apron. "Don't worry. I'm pretty sure that there will be plenty of leftovers for sensei to choose from." A look of concern came over the young woman's face as she opened a closet. "I hope that I'll be able to interest some customers in at least a few items, this being my professional debut and all…"

Shuuji laid his hand on Ayu's shoulder. "With such emphatic recommendations from your professors and the whole department as your fan club, I think you hardly need to worry. You've already made quite a reputation for yourself, and as such Saturday's exhibit will surely be a success."

A reassured smile spread across the young woman's face as she nodded in response. As the two walked down a hallway towards the room where her finished works were stored, a thought occurred to Ayu and she turned towards Shuuji, who was walking besides her. "Say, sensei, lately it feels as if you've become a lot more upbeat. You feel… younger even. Has something good happened?"

Shuuji was caught off guard by the sudden inquiry. "Hmm? No, everything's pretty much been the same."

"Oh…? Hagu-chan told me that you've been seeing a lot more of your lady friend from college lately." A crafty grin appeared on Yamada's face as she leaned closer to observe the professor's reaction. "That wouldn't have anything to do with sensei's boost in spirit of late, would it?"

To her great amusement, Ayu saw Shuuji's face flush and then fumble his reply. "That… well… it's… not what you think." This of course only fortified the young woman's suspicion that it _was_ what she thought, and she chuckled at the unusual sight of the professor, usually so mature and composed in manner, growing self-conscious like a young man who just had his secret admiration found out.

-----

Many blocks away, inside the apartment suite that was the Harada residence, Rika had just turned up the heater in the room. Forecasts that morning had predicted snow in the late afternoon and temperatures in the low single digits approaching zero. Wrapped in a thick knit sweater, Rika walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She took out a plastic container of potato and beef stew, leftovers from last night's meal at the Hanamoto's, where she had been invited to eat with Shuuji and Hagu. Taking a bowl down from a cupboard, she spooned the contents from the container into the dish and covered it in seram wrap. A smile appeared on her face when she remembered how "Shuu-chan" was constantly refilling their bowls and urging Hagu and her to eat more. "I'm going to gain weight if he keeps on doing this…"

The doorbell rang as the food heated in the microwave. Not expecting any guests or solicitors at this hour, Rika wondered who the visitor could be as she leaned forward to look through the eyehole installed in the front entrance.

Her eyes widened when she saw who was on the other side. The tall, bespectacled young man had heard her footsteps inside, and knew that she was home. "Rika-san… it's me, Mayama Takumi."

Minutes later, Rika was sitting in the passenger side of Mayama's car as the two drove through the light midday traffic. The young man's sudden visit had surprised her completely, and when he insisted that he needed her to come with him on a day trip, she had been unable to refuse, and only had time to pull on some warmer clothing. No further words were exchanged after they got into the car, as Takumi focused on the road with an unsettlingly somber expression. But now, as they passed onto the expressway leading out of the central part of the city, the young man spoke up. "…I apologize for asking you to come out so suddenly, Rika-san."

Rika merely shook her head slowly, and continued to look out the window. Mayama glanced over at the elder woman, a tender look filled with mixed emotions in his eyes. He turned his attention back to the road. "Have you eaten yet? We could stop by someplace first for lunch if you'd like."

In her mind, Rika saw Shuuji's stew that she had left out on the kitchen table. With her eyes still trained absently outwards, she replied in a quiet tone. "… It's alright, I'm not hungry."

-----

"Somebody has certainly kept busy this past month." Shuuji remarked, as he looked at the vast quantity of dishes, bowls, vases, cups, and other articles of pottery that lined the tall shelves all around him in the dimly lit storage room, most of which were created by the same artist, who at the moment was standing on a step ladder and rummaging through the high upper shelves.

Yamada picked up a traditionally fashioned bowl and blew a thin layer of dust off. "Well… this is my first time preparing for a personal exhibition, so I guess I got a little excited and went a bit overboard."

"… You've made enough to stock two exhibits. I wouldn't call that 'a bit overboard.'"

Ayu laughed sheepishly in response, and for the next ten minutes she picked out works which she felt promising and passed them to Shuuji, who then gave his assessment. After they had decided on close to two dozen pieces, Ayu decided to take a breather and took a seat on a chair at the foot of the ladder, wiping away the perspiration that appeared on her forehead from climbing up and down and handling several heavier articles. When no conversational topic immediately presented itself, she decided to pick up the subject they had left off in the hallway. "Really though, sensei, you should have seen Hagu when she was talking about Rika-san. From how her face glowed, she looked as if she found a new best friend."

Shuuji chuckled quietly as he sat down on a foldout chair besides the young woman. "Is that so? That's good to hear, but…" His voice trailed off a little. "... between Rika and me… it's not what you think, probably never will be."

Ayu turned to face towards Shuuji. Over the years she had learned enough to know what had happened in the past; how Rika, Harada, and Shuuji had been the closest of friends, and the terrible accident which had taken Harada away from the two. In a quiet, respectful tone, she spoke to the man sitting next to her. "Is it because of Harada-san?"

Shuuji's face took on a stressful expression at the mention of his old friend's name, and reached his hand into the chest pocket on his jacket before realizing that he no longer carried cigarettes with him. Sighing audibly, he leaned forward until his elbows were propped against his knees. "Yes… he's one of the reasons." Taking Yamada's silence as a cue, Shuuji continued. "After the accident… Rika lost the will to live. She was in so much pain, physically and emotionally, that she could not eat, but slowly withered away in the hospital bed. I confronted her: I told her that she could not die, that she could not go seek Harada in death… because she would never find him again even if she did. I told her that she had to keep living."

Shuuji shoved his hands in his pant pockets and leaned his head back against the wall, staring absently into the exposed ceiling beams. "From that point on, she slowly recovered her health: She ate the food and medicine with all her effort, no matter how many times she threw up, all in order to live, but then…"

Ayu saw Shuuji shut his eyes, his features turned hard by the recollections. "I'm so sorry, sensei. You don't have to say anymore…"

"It's fine… it's alright." Shuuji lowered the hand he held up to stop his worried student. "After Rika was discharged from the hospital, I moved in with her. I helped her with the studio's work after I came home and took care of her. I watched as she drove herself ruthlessly to finish the projects Harada left behind; it became her sole purpose in life, the only thing that kept her going." Shuuji took a deep breath and exhaled audibly. "Before long, Rika began to distance herself from me."

Ayu could do nothing but listen quietly as Shuuji's expression grew heavier. "Whenever Rika and I were together… we would always remember when it was the three of us. The absence of Harada was simply too great, the memory of him too painful for us to handle. I could not stand it, to see her in such sorrow even when I was…"

He clenched his teeth together tightly, and after a moment, released the tension. "I'm weak; I knew that I could never hope to replace what Harada had meant to her… So I left. I could no longer stay with her when I realized that my presence did not give her comfort, but only a painful reminder of someone she no longer had… I ran away." The young professor shook his head and chuckled bitterly. "Even now, I'm just a coward who could never fill Harada's shoes…"

"That's not true!"

Shuuji looked up in surprise to see that Yamada had rose from her seat, and now stood erect facing him with her fists clenched. When she saw how she had frightened the professor, Ayu quickly loosened her stance apologetically. "I, I meant to say… that this is all wrong. Hanamoto sensei is… not weak. You only left to protect Rika-san... but isn't this all wrong to begin with? If you loved someone, like Rika-san loved Harada-san, then his memory should not oppress or burden her, but give her strength, encouragement…"

Standing before her senior, Yamada was visibly nervous as he gripped and released her hands, but Shuuji saw that she was determined to finish what she set out to say. "Rika-san… you don't have to try to make her forget about the past, because no one can replace the loss of a loved one. Sensei isn't Harada-san, but you have been by her side through all these years… you shared the same roof with her, laughed and cried with her, grieved together with her, and gave her the will to live when she had lost it…" Shuuji saw Yamada's earnest eyes meet his own. "… You're all that Rika-san has left."

"That's why I think sensei should not feel so bad about himself… I believe that Harada-san would not have wanted this; to see himself become the reason that drives you two apart. And I think… he may have even wanted you two to be together."

In the quiet room, Yamada waited tensely for Shuuji's response. It was only when the hint a smile began to form on the young professor's face that Yamada relaxed… and realize at the same time how her speech could be construed to be motivated by naked, blatant self-interest. "I… I'm not saying this because of that idiot Mayama or anything! I just… well… if sensei still cares for Rika-san then… you shouldn't give up."

Ayu watched Shuuji rise slowly from his seat. Slowly, he placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and smiled warmly. "Thanks, Yamada."

The hesitancy about her actions dispelled, Ayu smiled broadly in return. "You're welcome."

The two then returned to their work, searching for and examining potential pieces to be displayed in the coming exhibition. At one point, Ayu hefted a large jade-colored platter from its shelf and handed it to Shuuji, but because of her awkward position and the weight of the dishe, she mishandled the piece, which fell through the young professor's hands and onto the floor, where it shattered into pieces.

Shuuji immediately bent down to clean up the mess. "Darn it! I'm so sorry about that..."

"No, no, it was my fault. It's alright though; I think I made several of those. Just need to find them, they ought to be around here somewhere."

Shuuji was relieved to hear that Yamada had made several copies of the same piece. With one knee kneeling on the ground, Shuuji carefully picked through the fragments of the platter and placed them into an empty dust bucket nearby. He paused when he picked up two particularly large pieces and held them up, studying the variable shades of green on the surface and the earthen-color of clay along the edges. Without saying a word, he slowly took the pieces and arranged them together along the jagged line where they broke off from each other; it was a perfect fit.

Moments later, Yamada caught the quiet words which the professor uttered with a sad, contemplative smile on his face. "We're just like these fragments... aren't we, Rika?"

-----

Many miles away, on a giant Ferris wheel that towered above the surrounding acres of expansive parklands, Rika and Mayama were seated across from each other. In the distance, the fading rays of the setting sun painted the sky with deep shades of orange, violet, and red, creating a rich backdrop to the shadowy silhouettes of the Tokyo cityscape.

Oblivious to the surrounding scenery, the bespectacled young man gazed at the woman who sat before him, the hues of the evening sky reflected upon her pale complexion and the light beige scarf she wore around her neck; she had not looked at him squarely in the face the entire day. Slowly, he reached into a pocket inside his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box, which he opened and held out to her. "Rika-san…"

Inside the padded container was a ring, a single diamond encrusted on a plain platinum band.

"… I would like to ask you, once more, to spend the rest of your life with me."

Rika turned towards the young man but kept her eyes averted from his gaze. She eyed the exquisite ring for what seemed like a very long time, her face failing to betray any emotions she may have been feeling inside. Then she reached out her hands, and taking the young man's extended hand in her own, she slowly closed his fingers around the lid of the box and returned it to him. "I'm sorry…"

Mayama was silent, and stared at the unaccepted ring that sat in the palm of his hands. His expression was one of disappointment, hurt, and frustration. "… Why? Why can't you love me? Why can't you accept me? Why… can't you be mine?"

"Mayama-kun…"

The bespectacled young man clenched his fists tightly as he continued, heedless of Rika's voice. "I… just don't understand. Am I not strong enough? Am I not good enough? I know I am, I know I can replace him…" Suddenly, his arms shot out to grab Rika by the shoulders, and his volume rose dramatically as his voice turned hoarse with emotion. "But why, why can't you forget him? Why won't you let him go? Don't you understand? Harada-san is DEAD! He's no longer here! You can't be with him anymore!"

Mayama breathing became ragged. He saw that Rika's eyes had turned wide and empty, her expression blank; shocked. He lowered his forehead against her shoulder, and spoke quietly in a tone filled with agony. "Why can't you understand…? Who is more important… the living or the dead? I am strong now, strong enough for the both of us. I became strong so you wouldn't need him anymore..." He released his grip on Rika's shoulders and slumped back into his seat, covering his face with his hands. "God Rika… if only you would look only at me and no longer look at him, I could make you forget him. I could make you forget the pain and give you happiness…"

The remainder of the ride passed in silence. As the dying rays of the sun vanished beneath the horizon and nightfall arrived, the first flakes of winter snow began to fall.

-----

Rika closed the door to the apartment behind her. It was already late in the evening and the house was cold, dark, and silent. She did not bother to turn on the lights or the heater, but walked towards her bedroom. When she turned on the stand lamp, a thin file of documents sitting on top of a desk besides the bed came into view. She picked up the pages and flipped through them slowly under the dim lighting. The first page bore the logo of the Harada design firm, the name of the client who commissioned the project, and her husband's signature, penned nearly six years ago. The second page contained the client representative's signature and her own, the date of the signing from more than several weeks ago.

In her hands, Rika held the finished contract to the last project which Harada had personally accepted, commissioned just before the night of the accident.

Gazing upon the free-flowing handwriting that was her husband's trademark style, Rika traced the letters slowly with her fingers, an eerie expression of calm on her face. Outside, the snow continued to fall silently.

"Sorry that I took so long. Just wait for me a little longer… I will be with you soon, Harada-kun..."

The sheets of documents fell to the floor from her hands as she slid down to the floor with her back against the bed. Wrapping her arms around herself, Rika buried her face deep into the soft folds of the beige scarf still wrapped around her neck; the only warmth she felt in that empty, chilly bedroom.

-----

Inside the Hanamoto residence, uncle and niece stood side by side in front of the sink in the usual configuration, one rinsing and one drying. Hagu performed the latter task with the aid of a small stool that elevated her sufficiently. She gazed up at her uncle, who was humming the tune of a famous American jazz piece as he sponged down a plate, and inquired with a smile on her face. "Shuu-chan seems really happy today, did something good happen?"

Shuu-chan returned his niece's smile with a teasing grin. "Something did, but it's a secret so I can't tell you about it."

He chuckled when Hagu pouted in response. "Hmph, Hagu knows why Shuu-chan is happy anyways, even if he won't tell me. It's because Rika-san is going to have tea with us again tomorrow, right?"

Shuuji laughed in reply. "That may very well be the case. Isn't Hagu looking forward to talking more with Rika?"

Hagumi nodded her head vigorously. "Mhmm! Rika-san is pretty, and fun to talk with, and knows more about art than Shuu-chan does!"

"Oi… that's going a bit too far isn't it? Now you're hurting my feelings…" Shuuji's melodramatic act of clutching at his heart caused Hagu to start giggling, which made in him smile in turn. "And didn't you say you had some sort of surprise that you wanted to show me? When am I going to see it?"

"Tomorrow! But I'm going to show it to Rika-san at the same time, because it's going to be a surprise for her too."

Bending down to face Hagu, Shuuji dried his hands and rubbed Hagu's head pleasantly, eliciting small squeals of protest. "Guess that makes two of us looking forward to tomorrow then."

**Chapter 3-2: Their widening distance.**


End file.
